Unlike Father, Unlike Daughter
by Tealheartleopard
Summary: Anderson has promised his daughter that she would be allowed to work with him one day. Now the day is here and Anderson knows that only the worst can happen when she meets Sherlock Holmes. OC. Please r r! Chapter two is up!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: here it is, the first chapter! NO SLASH! Implied Donavon/Anderson though… I think that's it… oh yeah… one more thing… I DON'T OWN ANYTHING! Though if I did…**

Abigail was bored with her life. It was boring and predictable, living in London while her father went out and solved crimes. Solved crimes isn't the right thing to say though. Abigails' father didn't actually solve crimes. He just helped out. By helping out, she means gets in the way. Her father wasn't much of a help to Scotland Yard. She could tell. He pretended that he was a huge help when he was around her mother. But Abigail could see right through his lies.

Her father worked in the forensic science department in Scotland Yard, finding clues was what he did for a living. It sounded like fun to Abigail and she wanted to go with her father to work, just so that she could have a day free from boredom. And so that she could humiliate him.

There were so many things Abigail knew about her father. So many lies he'd told. She knew he was having an affair with one of his colleagues. She had confronted him about it and he had told her not to tell her mother, otherwise there would be trouble. As if that would stop her from telling her mother, he thinks he knows everything because of his job. But just as Abigail was planning on telling her mother about the affair, her father had promised her that she would be allowed to work with him if she kept her mouth shut. Abigail felt as if she had no choice but to agree with her father, which she hardly did. Now the day was here, the day that she would go to work with her father. She smiled at the thought. Time to embarrass him, but she was sure that he probably didn't need her help to get embarrassed. Her father was an idiot.

Her father entered her bedroom and sighed.

"Ready to go then?", he asked, he sounded annoyed.

Abigail nodded eagerly.

"You need to know that normally they don't let thirteen year olds to go to a crime scene. They allowed me to though", he said, it was almost like a warning, like he was saying not to do anything stupid that could lose him his job. In all honesty, Abigail was surprised he hadn't been given the sack already. Then she thought about what he had said, _they allowed me to though_. By they, Abigail assumed he meant the woman he was having an affair with. She smirked at this; she would have fun if she met this woman. She would know who it was.

"Yes I understand", Abigail replied, standing up from her bed and walking straight past her father and out of the front door.

She could hear his footsteps behind her as she climbed in the passenger side of the 'family' car. Which it wasn't because it was only her father that used it. She pulled the belt across her body and clipped it in place as she watched her father get into the driver's side with a slightly worried expression on his face.

"What's the matter?" she asked, not because she cared but because she was curious.

"Nothing. Why would you even suggest such a thing?" he asked, his voice shook when he spoke. Abigail rolled her eyes at this.

"Your hands are clenched rather hard around the steering wheel, so hard that your knuckles have gone white, it's to stop your hands from shaking, though I can still see them trembling. Your fore head has a few beads of sweat around the edge and when I asked the question you gulped. Also your voice is really shaky", Abigail answered, not taking her eyes off his face, watching as his expression changed to something along the lines of annoyance.

"I'm not worried about anything Abigail. Just stop noticing things please", he was frustrated, she could tell. She had been able to 'notice' things as her father said for about two years now. She found it extremely useful. Her father, well, the same couldn't be said.

About an hour later they arrived at the crime scene. It looked like a stately home.

Abigail got out of the car and slammed the door shut behind her causing her father to curse under his breath. As she walked up to the blue police tape and was about to duck under it, she was stopped by a woman.

"Who are you?", she asked, she was wearing a very short skirt Abigail noticed and high heels. Abigail didn't like her one bit.

"Abigail", she replied, going to duck under the tape once again. The woman sighed and held her arm out in front of her.

"That doesn't answer any questions. So who are you?", she asked, sounding irritated.

"She is my daughter", my father had to ruin a moment when a stupid woman was asking the wrong question.

"Oh, she is, is she?" she raised her eyebrows at his words.

"That's what he just said", Abigail muttered. My father just ignored it.

"How are you Sally?" he asked, quickly changing the subject from Abigail to the woman. Then she realised something and wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"This is the woman you've been having an affair with!", she smiled, this would be fun!

"Abigail, don't you start this stupid noticing thing again. And leave the affair alone!" her father warned. Abigail just ran under the police tape and waved at her father from the other side, before smiling sweetly at him then walking towards the building.

"You get back here now!", the woman, Sally, shouted after her. Abigail laughed and started running towards the door, not really paying attention to where she was going. She ran headlong into something soft. Abigail froze on the spot.

She took a couple of steps back and looked up at what she had run into. Who, is more appropriate. Abigails' eyes widened in shock when she realised she had just run into a person. With any other person, she would have just apologised and continued walking. But with this man, she wasn't sure what to do. He was wearing a long grey coat that was like a cloak around him and he wore a blue scarf around his neck. He was taller than her dad, she could tell by just looking at him. He had wild black curls on the top of his head. But it was his eyes that caught Abigails' attention. His eyes were an unusual blue-green colour and they looked full of knowledge. She took an involuntary step backwards and looked up at the man.

"Sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going", Abigail muttered, feeling slightly awkward that she had just embarrassed herself in front of her father. She glanced behind her and saw him smirking at her.

"Clearly", he replied, his voice seemed to drawl. Abigail felt even more awkward as she felt his eyes scanning her. She saw his eyes flicker for a second, but they quickly returned to being mysterious.

"Sherlock Holmes", he extended a gloved hand towards her.

"Abigail", she shook his hand and smiled up at him. He looked over her shoulder and rolled his eyes. Abigail couldn't resist and had to have a look herself. She too rolled her eyes when she saw her father trying to flirt with Sally.

"Anderson, don't try to flirt, you wouldn't even make a hippo swoon", Sherlock shouted over at him. Abigail snickered at this, she liked this Holmes man, he seemed different to everyone else.

**A/N: so… what did you think? Do you think I should carry on with this? Please review, your comments and feedback make me feel LOVED! **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: here is chapter two! Thanks to all the people who reviewed! Free Sherlock hugs to all! Disclaimer: still don't own **

Abigail smiled up at the Holmes man; he obviously didn't like her father either. She had someone to insult him or embarrass him with now. She looked at her father who was now glaring at Holmes, but also shuffling his feet nervously and looking from Abigail to Holmes and vice versa.

"What's the matter?" she asked, trying to remember not to call him dad or father. She didn't want Holmes knowing she was the daughter of an idiot.

"Oh for god's sake Abigail, not this again", her father groaned, "Nothing is the matter".

"There is obviously something wrong", Abigail sighed, why did he have to keep denying?

"Obviously", Holmes added, "Anderson, the girl speaks the truth, she knows partly what's wrong, but would like you to tell her the rest. As would I". Abigail smiled once again at the man; her father seemed to be slightly scared by him, intimidated even.

"Sherlock, you want to know what the matter is? I don't want you going near Abigail", Anderson snapped at Holmes. Abigail couldn't believe it, what had this man done for her father to turn on him?

"And why ever not Anderson?" Holmes asked, head slightly tilted to one side.

"Because… just because. I won't have you going anywhere near my…" Anderson began, but Abigail cut across.

"His wife's niece!" Abigail blurted out, before her father could say 'daughter'. She watched as Holmes' eyes narrowed at this, but quickly returned to normal. Abigail held her breath, getting ready for the first question, or for him to say he already knew that she was Andersons' daughter. But it never happened. Holmes nodded once, and then turned around to go back to the house, the crime scene. Abigail followed behind him. Just then, Holmes stopped rather abruptly, causing Abigail to walk into him yet again. She looked up at him and saw something different in his eyes. Adventure, life and excitement.

"Do you want to come in?" he asked, glancing at her father and smiling at Andersons frown.

"Yes sure! If that's alright with whoever is in charge?" Abigail was unsure if Holmes was the man in charge, he did look important.

"Yes. Please do come in. Have you ever seen a dead body before?", he questioned.

"Nope", Abigail replied. She would sure like to though, it sounded like an interesting job, solving murders and seeing the bodies and collecting evidence.

"Will you be alright with the blood?" he asked, with every question he glanced over at Anderson to analyse his reaction.

"Yup!" Abigail said, this was sounding better each time he said something. Dead bodies, blood, she loved the sound of it all.

"Come on then", Holmes said, walking up to the front door of the house, "Oh, you need to put one of those on", he nodded in the direction of a police van with the back doors open revealing blue suits and white elf like shoes.

"Alright", Abigail sighed, "but why aren't you putting one on?"

He didn't answer her; he left her to put one of the suits over her clothes and the ridiculous shoes on her feet while he entered the house. She struggled into the suit, it was also too big for her, she was sure she looked horrendous, but she was buzzing about going into the house, so much so that she didn't really care about what she looked like. Abigail wasn't like that anyway, she hated girly girls and fashion and make up. She liked blood and guts and gore, and everything that all the girls her age hate.

Once she had the strange, uncomfortable costume on, she finally went into the house. Abigail looked up, at the dome ceiling in the hall, it was astonishing. Large chandeliers hung from the ceilings, the diamonds shimmering. There were large wooden doors with intricate patterns on that led to other stunning rooms. She stopped admiring the beautiful house when she saw Holmes looking at her.

"Have you seen enough?" he asked, Abigail knew he meant the house and not the whole crime scene.

She nodded and followed him through two of the carved doors and into what she presumed to be a dining room. Once again, there was a large chandelier hanging from the ceiling and the walls were painted a cream colour, giving the room a light atmosphere. There was a long oak table in the very centre of the room, with twelve chairs around it. The carpet was plush and it felt like new, springy and soft under Abigails' feet.

"Are you Abigail?" a man with greying hair asked her.

"Yes", she replied with a nod.

"Good, we have been expecting you. I'm Detective Inspector Lestrade", he said pulling out an ID card from his pocket and showing it to Abigail. It was as if he thought Abigail not to believe him.

"Nice to meet you D.I", Abigail smiled politely at him and he returned the smile.

"Yes, nice indeed. Where is the body?" Holmes said in a bored tone.

"Over there", Lestrade pointed to the other side of the room. By now, Abigails' father and Sally where in the room too. She looked at her father; he was still looking between her and Holmes nervously, why?

Abigail followed Detective Inspector Lestrade and Holmes to where Lestrade had just pointed and froze at the sight in front of her.

A woman who looked like she was in her early forties was lying flat on her stomach and dark crimson blood pooled around her. She was wearing a long sleeved silk shirt and skinny jeans, blood also coated the left sleeve of her shirt. Abigail sighed silently before looking up at Lestrade for permission to have a closer look at the body. He nodded at her and gestured towards the body.

Abigail knelt down next to the body and gave Holmes a questioning stare as he knelt down on the opposite side of the corpse. Abigail ignored this and looked over the body, there were many things she could tell from just looking at the body, but she would need to be able to examine it further for more information.

"Have you got any latex gloves?" she whispered to Holmes, though she wasn't sure why she was whispering, everyone was listening intently to what she was saying anyway. Holmes didn't say anything, he just handed her a pair from out of his pocket.

"Thanks", Abigail replied shyly, as she put on the gloves and continued looking at the corpse. Then something struck Abigail as strange. She hesitated before rolling over the body and pulling the left sleeve of the silk shirt up the lifeless arm.

Abigail looked up at Holmes and smiled; he seemed to know why she was smiling and returned the gesture.

"You've seen it then?" Holmes asked, still smiling.

"Yup, it's obvious", Abigail grinned.

"What's obvious?" Anderson cut in, a look of pure confusion on his face.

"Honestly Da…" Abigail paused and looked away; she closed her eyes and got ready for the laughing. But it never came. She looked at Holmes, confused but relieved, to see that he was just standing, motionless, not really looking at anyone or anything in particular. Abigail tensed as she anticipated the first insult or comment…

**A/N: so what did you think? Please review! Next chapter will explain what Abigail and Sherlock saw! Thanks! x**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I am so sorry for the extremely long delay in this chapter! You have no idea how annoyed I was when I couldn't log in! a thousand apologies! So, here it is, chapter three! Thank you to all the lovely reviews!**

**I don't own a thing!**

Abigail glanced up at Holmes nervously, why did she have to do that? Why, did she have to slip up right then, when a possible ally was there? Someone who would understand her and not judge her, she had well and truly lowered her chances of getting back on her dad. He was the person who started this whole predicament in the first place; it was his fault she was mentally cursing at herself. But, if it wasn't for him, she supposed she never would have met Holmes, which was one thing to thank him for… maybe.

"You're…" Holmes began trailing off as he shot a quick look at Abigail and then her father, before standing up and turning to leave the building.

"Sherlock! We haven't finished here!" detective inspector Lestrade called after him.

"You haven't, I have. I have seen and _heard_ enough detective inspector", Holmes called back.

Abigail remained on the floor, shocked at what had just happened but she was brought out of her thoughts by a hand shaking roughly on her shoulder.

"You saw the same things as him, didn't you?" Lestrade asked a glint in his eyes.

"Perhaps", Abigail shrugged, looking at the door that was now swinging open.

Lestrade sighed,"Well can you tell us?"

"What use would it be to you? You've got a whole team, let them figure it out", she snapped, and then looked away in embarrassment, "Sorry"

"Nah it's alright. I shouldn't be pressuring you like this"

"Look, I'll tell you ok?" Abigail sighed loudly, throwing her hands in the air in defeat.

"Thank you", Lestrade grinned. Abigail managed a nod in response.

Abigail looked over the body once more before turning to the detective inspector she pointed to her sleeves.

"The top is new, hardly worn; she only ever wears it when she is going out with someone, one person. Not her husband, she's been having an affair", she looked at her father when she said that, then continued," Her husband doesn't know about the affair, never has, if he's a suspect you can cross him off your list"

"How do you know about _their_ affair?" her father asked a look of pure confusion on his face.

"She wears tops that have long sleeves and that are quite expensive when she goes to meet him. They have to have long sleeves otherwise she'd get caught out", Abigail began to roll up the sleeve on the woman's right arm, the arm with the blood on. She heard several gasps and murmurs from the police officers around her.

"The reason she has to have long sleeves is because of this", she pointed at the gold bracelet on the woman's arm, "whenever she goes out to meet him she puts her wedding ring looped onto her bracelet and hides it under her sleeves, the tops are always expensive so it distracts him from the lump where her ring is", Abigail smiled as she saw the genuinely shocked expression Lestrade had.

"Brilliant!" Lestrade exclaimed.

"I haven't finished yet Sir", Abigail muttered and he motioned for her to continue.

"The way the blood is spread on her arm makes it obvious that they used a cleaver, probably the first thing the killer found, she was struck twice with it, on her arm where the ring is, they were obviously angry about the affair. She was also struck with the handle of the cleaver on the left side of her forehead, quite a bit of power was put into the strike", Abigail stood up and faced the detective inspector.

"Thank you Abigail, you don't happen to know who did it do you?" Lestrade asked.

Abigail groaned, "What must it be like in your funny little brains? It must be so boring. Find her brother in law; he works in the butchers down the road".

"Abigail, how would you like to come here more often with your father?" Lestrade said.

"Yeah, fine", she replied, looking out of the door, she was more interested with Holmes' abrupt disappearance.

"See you soon then?"

"Yeah, bye", she mumbled, turning round to wave at Lestrade and glare at Donavon.

She half ran to the door but stopped when she saw another man there.

"Are you Miss Abigail?" he asked, he sounded posh.

"Yes. Why do you ask?" she replied glancing at her father who looked as puzzled as her, then again, he normally did look like he had no idea what was going on.

"Taxi for you miss Abigai", was all he said as he walked out into the drive and to the London cab that was parked there.

Abigail frowned but followed the short man to the taxi anyway.

"Look, I'll be home later, if anything happens, I'll phone you", Abigail said to her father, who looked concerned.

"Alright, but make sure you do", he warned.

"Yes dad", she sighed.

She walked to the left of the taxi and got in the back. As she was putting her seatbelt on she faced the driver, "Where are we going?"

"Baker Street, Miss Abigail. 221b Baker Street"

**So. . . what did you think? Please let me know, reviews are everything! Bye for now! Lucy x**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: here is the next chapter!**

Abigail sat back in her seat, trying to think about what she had been told.

"_221B Baker Street"_

Abigail was sure that she had never heard that address before, and she was now anxious as to where she was going. The taxi was driving down the small lanes slowly, allowing her to admire the scenery. They had already travelled for about half an hour, so the buildings had changed considerably from what she was used to seeing. She had never been in this part of London before, and she was excited and also nervous, as to what was waiting for her at the end of the journey.

Abigail decided to question the driver.

"How much longer have we got?"

"About fifteen minutes Miss", the driver replied, still looking at the road ahead. Abigail noticed that he had a mobile phone resting on the passenger seat, switched on, but not doing anything. Abigail already had a pretty clear idea on what sort of a person the driver was, he wasn't particularly hard to read, and from what she had gathered he wouldn't be likely to have left his phone on without reason. He was waiting for something. A call, a text.

"Where are we going?" Abigail asked, hoping to get more information out of him.

"Miss Abigail, I've already answered that. I'm afraid I can't tell you any more".

Abigail sighed and continued to gaze out of the window, watching the different buildings as they drove past, taking every single one in, its structure and shape. Then, without warning, the driver swerved into a layby.

"What? Why are you stopping?" Abigail asked, shocked at the drivers' actions.

"No questions please".

Abigail started to panic; she fiddled with the corner of her coat sleeve and undid her seat belt.

"I really think I should be going…" she trailed off. But, as her hand made contact with the door handle, she was stopped by the phone on the passenger seat ringing. The driver smiled and picked up the phone, holding it to his ear.

"Hello Mr", he answered, his voice calm.

A moment of silence.

"We are about five minutes away Mr".

Another pause as he waited for the other person to reply.

"Yes quite so. Very inquisitive even if I do say so myself. We shall be there shortly"

He glanced at her and smiled at the look of confusion on her face.

"Mr, she seems completely oblivious to who it is that is speaking to me right now, then again saying that I will probably get a few questions after".

Abigail grimaced, they were talking about her! Her hand fumbled for her phone, if he locked the car doors then she was calling her dad, the situation was getting out of hand.

Taxi turns up to get her and take her to an address that she had never heard of, the driver won't tell her anything about it and now he had a phone call and they were discussing her. Abigail gulped hard; she hoped that she wasn't being kidnapped. Her hand closed around her hone and she squeezed it, just in case if she let go and it disappeared.

"Will do Mr, ok, goodbye" and he hung up.

"Who was that?", Abigail asked as soon as he pressed disconnect. He smirked up at her.

"I knew you would ask questions. I'm afraid I can't tell you that. But he asked me to tell you something", he replied, smirk now vanished and his face was now serious.

"What is that then?" Abigail asked, cocking her head to one side, to show that she was interested.

"That when you get there, to go straight upstairs, don't knock on the door, it's the first door up the stairs", the driver said, and then he resumed the driving.

Abigail sighed and loosened the grip on her phone, if the person tried something on her, then she would run. Or fight, either would do.

A few more turns and the cab stopped outside of a block of flats.

"Here is your stop Miss, remember what I said?", the driver said as she got out.

"Yes", was her short reply, "I don't have any…"

"No need to pay", he said, and then he drove away, leaving Abigail in a part of London she didn't know, in a neighbourhood that she had never been to. She took a deep breath and stepped towards the door and walked straight up the stairs, as the driver had instructed, not to knock on the door. First door at the top of the stairs, she repeated in her head. She saw it and paused outside the door, her body half turning to run.

"Come in", said a voice from behind the door, she recognised it, the voice seemed to drawl…

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed! I am so happy! Thank you! I hope you continue to review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry for the super long wait, but I've had a lot on my mind recently. Anyway, I hope that I am forgiven, here is the next chapter and I hope you enjoy it!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock…if I did then the 3****rd**** series would be on our screens now:)**

Abigail looked up at the man who had just spoken and saw the small smile form at her shocked expression. She just continued to stare, unmoving from where she stood, outside the door of the man with the curly midnight hair. Holmes looked down at her with a seemingly bemused look on his face, and stepped away from the entrance to what she assumed was his flat

"Come in", he repeated, and Abigail snapped out of her trance, and looked him in the eyes.

"Why did you go? Why did you just leave? Who was that bloody awful cabby that phoned you? He was too posh for my liking", Abigail blurted out question, after question, after question, and Holmes simply raised his eyebrows at her.

"Once again, come in. Then I'll explain", and he turned to go into the room, making sure that Abigail was following first. Once she was inside, he closed the door behind her and gestured towards a chair with a union jack cushion propped up on it. She sat down, but made sure that she was sat close to the edge of the comfy seat, so that if anything was to go wrong, she could run for the door. Abigail discreetly placed her hand inside her pocket and prepared to call her dad if she had to go to such extreme measures. Holmes noticed her alertness and sat down in a chair parallel to the one she was sat in.

"Take your hand out of your pocket, but bring your phone out. Your dad will call you soon",he closed his eyes as he said this,then added,"you can relax Abigail. Sit back, the chair isn't going to swallow you"

Sighing Abigail did as he said and found herself relaxed immediately. She balanced her phone on her knee, and waited for either her father to call or Holmes to speak again. Unfortunately, it wasn't the latter. Bringing her phone up to her ear Abigail pressed the answer button.

"Hel-",before she could finish that one word her father cut in.

"Abigail! Where are you? It's past 10 o clock!", her father chided.

"I'm...", pausing she looked at Holmes who still had his eyes closed. Should she tell her father she was with the man that he so clearly hated? Holmes simply smiled, and Abigail took that as an acceptance to say.

"I'm in Baker street. 221B-", once again she was cut off by her father.

"Baker street? 221-! Abigail get out of that mans house now! He's dangerous, a psychopath!", Abigail widened her eyes at this but Holmes stood up and took the phone from her.

"Anderson I've told you once and I'll tell you again until it gets stuck in that funny little brain of yours. I'm not a psychopath, I'm a high functioning sociopath, now will you please go and do your research, it will make the world a better place", Holmes said it as though it was recited and then hung up on her father.

He sat down again and closed his eyes, resting his chin on his hands. "Mr Holmes...", Abigail trailed off, not knowing what to say.

"My name is Sherlock and you can call me by it", he smiled.

"ok...Sherlock. Why did you leave?", she cocked her head to one side, waiting for an answer.

But before Sherlock had a chance to say something, someone burst through the door of the flat, and Abigail recognised him instantly. The cabby.

"Sherlock, the next time you get me to steal a cab, I swear I'll...", he began, and Abigail noticed that his voice wasn't posh anymore, he sounded like an average man.

"Wait, that cab was stolen? Who are you?", Abigail interjected.

The man sat down on the sofa and looked at her with an apologetic look,"sorry for abducting you, Sherlocks orders. I'm John, John Watson. His flat mate"he smiled politely as he introduced himself, then he turned to Sherlock with a scowl on his face,"Sherlock, why did you have me speaking poshly? I could've spoken normally and she wouldn't of recognised me, she didn't even know who I was".

Sighing Sherlock opened his eyes,"yes but she would've been able to deduce things from your voice if you hadn't of. The script helped also, it was amusing hearing you speak like that".

"Do you know what? Forget it!", John stood up and went to the frigde to get a can of beer, leaving Abigail with Sherlock again.

"Your father will be here soon undoubtedly. I can't answer many, or even any of your questions tonight. It depends what you know", Sherlock said, looking her in the eyes.

"I know about what?", she asked, he was being very vague.

"Hm...I can't really tell you that either. But I'll be with the yarders again tomorrow most probably. So, I'll see you then, maybe I can be more useful then. I suppose I should tell you about myself shouldn't I?", she nodded and he continued,"I'm a consulting detective, the only one in the world, I invented the job. I also-",

John shouted from the other room,"am a selfish know it all!".

"Thank you for your input John. I also...actually, you probably know anyway", Sherlock waited for her to say something, and there was no noise coming from the kitchen either, meaning John was also listening.

"You play the violin a lot, especially when you're bored. You get bored a lot that's why you invented your own job. Um... Either your father or older brother works in politics, very high up in the ranks, multiple jobs. You do a lot of experiments in your spare time and never get round to clearing the mess", I finished,"how did I do?".

John walked through from the kitchen with a beer, coffee and a glass of orange juice. He handed the glass to Abigail and said,"I thought you did really well. It's his brother that's got a job in politics. How did you know all of that?".

"The violin was easy, the matter of the instrument itself and the piles of handwritten sheet music. The boredom, well why else would someone shoot the wall? Politics...well, I saw a file with a whole load of government related things on, with the name Mycroft Holmes written on it. Experiments, the kitchen table is a clue", I concluded.

Sherlock just stared at Abigail throughout the entire time she had shared her deductions. Abigail was about to ask Sherlock something, when an unwanted visitor entered the room.

"Abigail, get out of here,_ NOW_!", Anderson shouted, already ushering Abigail out of the door. Abigail placed the glass full of juice on the table, so that it wouldn't be knocked over by her father pulling on her arm.

"But-", Abigail began, but her fathers glare made her stop in her tracks. He was never like this.

"No buts. We are going", Anderson stood by the door, and waited for Abigail to leave. She gave Sherlock a quick glance which clearly said,_sorry, I'll try to leave my dad out of my own business next time, _then nodded in Johns direction, and he raised a hand in return. As Abigail walked out of the flat and onto the road, she turned around and looked up at the window, where Sherlock was standing, looking as though he was in deep thought about something, what, she didn't know. But Abigail would find out the answers to her questions. even if the consequences weren't what she was hoping for.

**A/N: What did you think? Please leave a review, reviews mean the world to me! xxx**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: sorry for the delay, unfortunately this chapter doesn't help with me gaining your forgiveness... it is rather short. But I promise that the next chapter won't take as long and will be longer. So, here is the extremely short-but important I must add-chapter.**

As Abigail was dragged down the street by her dad, she thought about what had happened. She couldn't deduce anything from the things Holm-Sherlock had said. He had been very vague and Abigail hadn't liked it, she needed more, much more to go on. She had too little data. Abigail noticed that her father had released his grip on her arm, so she snapped out of her train of thought and realised they were by his car. She could have ran back to Baker Street, but then her father would have more reasons to shout at her. Sighing, she opened the door and sat in the passenger seat, before slamming the door just to show her father how annoyed she was. She received nothing except another glare.

As they neared the house, Anderson turned to face Abigail and exhaled. "Look, I'm sorry for being harsh, but I don't want you in that mans house, let alone near him. He's dangerous, a psychopath", Abigail remembered what Sherlock had said to her father and repeated it.

"No, he's a high functioning sociopath, he said so himself".

"Well, he would say that wouldn't he. Just promise me you'll stay away from Sherlock Holmes.", Anderson said and no more was spoken, even as the car drew up on the drive, even as they both walked in the house and went their separate ways, Anderson to the living room and Abigail to her bed room. Abigail shut her door with such force, that the frame shook and the door threatened to come off its hinges. She threw herself onto her bed and rested her chin on her hands.

How could her father expect her to stay away from Sherlock when she was now invited to come to the crime scenes that he worked at? Surely he didn't expect her to not go and help out. Did he? She hoped not, she very much enjoyed it there, she could notice things and not get shouted at, but praised. And Abigail loved it, she wasn't being a snob she just hadn't been praised a lot at home by her father, or her mother. Though her mother did praise her much more often than her father who gave little attention to her. Another thing about Sherlock was that, admittedly, Abigail was fascinated by him. He seemed to understand her, and he was obviously extremely intelligent the contrast between his mind and her fathers' was almost laughable. But Abigail wasn't in the mood for laughing. She sat up and stared out of her window, when a thought occurred to her. Her father hadn't told her to stay away from Sherlocks flat mate John.

Smiling, Abigail turned off the light and snuggled down into her duvet, drifting off into a blissful sleep. When Abigail awoke she was still smiling slightly. She stretched then swung her legs out of the bed and wriggled her toes on her plush carpet. Abigail had slept in her day clothes, so she quickly changed before going downstairs to get breakfast. Upon arriving in the kitchen she was greeted by her mothers warm smile and her fathers back. Rolling her eyes she poured herself a bowl of cereal and topped it off with milk then brought her bowl to the table, sat down and began eating.

"Good morning", her mother chimed from her left side, she was also sitting down whereas her father was standing by the window.

"This came for you in the post this morning" Abigail was handed an envelope that was addressed to her in neat handwriting.

"Thanks", Abigail said between mouthfuls. She pocketed the envelope and finished her cereal.

Dumping her bowl in the washing up tub, she turned to her dad,"Hello". She was surprised when he replied quite cheerfully,"Hello Abigail, have a good nights sleep?"

"Yes, I suppose...",trailing off Abigail searched her fathers face for any hints on what had caused his sudden change of mood. Then she realised. Smile was too high, his eyes were annoyed and his lips looked strained.

He was forcing it.

Her mother had obviously had a word with him about not talking to her a lot. With a hum of approval, Abigail headed off to her bedroom and sat cross-legged on her bed. She fished the envelope out of her pocket and carefully tore the edge of the envelope, so that she could reach the letter inside. Pulling it out, she discarded the envelope and began reading it.

Abigail,_ (it read)_ I'm sorry about your sudden leave last night, if I could have prevented it I would've. But the purpose for this letter is this-your father will let you come to work with him tomorrow, but you'll have to avoid me as much as is possible. Or you won't be allowed with your father to work again. If you have any questions,(which I assume you have plenty of them) then meet me at a café that's close to your house,but your father can't know of its specific whereabouts, I know the perfect one, at 8 o clock tomorrow night. I shall give you the information required tomorrow. Until then, SH

**See that little button down there? If you could press it, type a few nice words and send it then I will be eternally grateful :) Honest!**

**L x**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:Well hello there! If you're all still here then I can't do anything but to apologise for the long wait. So I'm sorry, I'm really truly sor-...or I could just give you the next chapter...**

Abigail read the letter repeatedly, and once satisfied she folded it and put it back into her pocket. Now she had the arduous task of waiting for tomorrow.

* * *

><p>The next morning,hoping that Sherlock was indeed right and her father would allow her to go to work with him again, Abigail silently walked to the living room. Her father was sat down but looked slightly on edge. Abigail was about to quietly tiptoe back to her room and forget about asking him when Anderson turned around and saw her.<p>

"What do you want?",he asked.

"I was wondering whether I was going to be with you in work today", Abigail replied, crossing her fingers behind her back.

"Well it seems that Lestrade finds you so useful that he's asked for you to come", he didn't sound at all pleased by this.

Abigail refrained herself from grinning,"Oh, well I suppose we'd better make a move then"

Anderson scowled at her,"I haven't had a message from Lestrade yet. There's nothing that needs looking at"

It was at this precise moment that Anderson's phone beeped. Grabbing his phone from the arm of the chair, Abigail grinned as she read the message.

Murder. Body found in the Thames.

GL

Despite the fact that there had been a murder, Abigail smiled as she handed the phone to her father.

"You've had a message now", she pointed out.

"Alright, alright", Anderson muttered in defeat.

He went out of the house without a word and Abigail took this as her silent cue to follow. She called a quick farewell to her mother before leaving the house and climbing into the car.

As she strapped her seatbelt, she analysed her fathers movements and expression discreetly out of the corner of her eye. However, she wasn't discreet enough.

"Abigail before you can make a stupid comment about my mood and ask me stupid questions, the reason I'm like this is because you're not to go near Sherlock. You should know by now. So, you're to stay by my side for the entire time that you're there", Anderson seemed pleased with the reaction he received from this. Abigail found the fact that she had to stay with her father unfair. She could stay away from Sherlock and not be next to her father at the same time. After a moment of silence Abigail spoke again.

"Lestrade might call me over to him, and Sherlock might be there too", Abigail pointed out, not being able to help herself.

"Well if that happens then I'll have to come with you"

"What if Lestrade asks you to stay where you are?"

"He won't. It's my official job Abigail, you're just visiting", he clenched his teeth, beginning to become very irritated with her.

"What if you're needed elsewhere?" Anderson took a deep breath.

"Then I'll excuse myself from where I'm needed"

"What if-"

"Oh shut up Abigail!"

The rest of the journey was spent in silence. Abigail hadn't even thought of something to suggest the last time, for she knew that her father would snap straight away.

Upon arriving near the area that was encircled with blue tape, Abigail began making her strides longer so that she was ahead of her father.

"Abigail",he cautioned.

"You're too slow", came her only excuse. She could feel him glaring at her so she stopped and waited for him to catch up before striding off at the same pace again.

"Abigail!"

"Fine..", she murmured and once again stopped. As she waited for her father to take the three steps it would take for him to be next to her again, Abigail scanned the area. Sherlock was talking with Lestrade and John. And they were stood right next to the body. Abigail smiled at this and glanced at her father who was now walking next to her before raising a hand towards them. they all waved back, Lestrade and John out of kindness and Sherlock to annoy Anderson.

"Stay next to me Abigail, or else", Anderson said and she smirked at his poor attempt at a threat.

"Or else what?"

"Just or else Abigail!", he said, unable to think of a sufficient enough thing to add. Abigail rolled her eyes and ducked under the police tape before her father, who upon seeing that she was taking advantage of the fact that she was slightly ahead stuck out his foot causing Abigail to trip.

She held her hands out in front of her and landed short of the corpse. Lestrade had been too busy talking to Sherlock to notice the cause of Abigail's current position so he walked over to her and grinned.

"That eager to start were you?", he asked.

"I suppose you could say that", she mumbled in response. Abigail jumped up from the floor and brushed herself off. Lestrade lead them away from the body and to the anti-contamination suits. There was only one left which Anderson picked up and started putting on himself.

John called Abigail over to him. He wasn't standing near Sherlock so she didn't hesitate in complying.

"Hello John",she flicked away pieces of gravel that had stuck to her front.

"Hi...that was quite childish of your dad wasn't it?", John said.

"Quite?", Abigail replied and John smiled.

"Are you hurt at all?", he asked with genuine concern.

"No. But my father will be if he continues to act the way he is acting"

"Look, Abigail...I've no idea about what's going on exactly. Sherlock has informed me of some things though", John said.

Abigail realised something at that moment.

"Have you got a pen with you?", she asked.

"Do you know I might...", John replied, patting at his pockets. "Here", he pulled a pen out of his coat pocket and handed it to Abigail.

Unfolding the letter she had in her pocket, Abigail began writing a response by resting the paper on her knee and standing rather precariously on one leg. She wrote:

I definitely need answers, and the sooner the better. My father is beginning to act rather childishly about it and it's driving me insane not knowing why. I know where you mean to meet me so I'll have to wait until later.

Thank you,

Abigail

She folded up the letter and handed it and the pen to John,"My father hasn't set a restriction order between you and Sherlock"

"I know", John said, putting the paper and pen in his pocket,"I'll take it to him now. Wait here. He might have a reply for you"

Abigail nodded and John turned to find Sherlock. Once she was on her own, Lestrade came over to her.

"I'm sorry your father took the last suit"

"It wasn't unexpected"

"Here", he said whilst handing her a pair of rubber gloves,"I know that you're careful so you can just wear these. I appreciate you coming. You see things that no one else can see"

Abigail put the rubber gloves on making the elastic snap against her skin as she released it.

"Apart from Sherlock"

"Apart from Sherlock", Lestrade repeated in agreement,"Well when your ready you can just start"

Lestrade returned to the body, Abigail saw that her father was crouched down next to it, and there was no sign of John. He was still at the other side of the area with Sherlock. Anderson straightened himself up and said something to Lestrade before gong to talk to his colleagues, and she took this opportunity to get a good look at the body

Abigail approached the body and knelt down next to it. It had been placed face up on the ground and he was wearing a thick woollen coat despite the fact that the weather hadn't been particularly cold the past week. The wool hadn't dried out like the rest of him and the coat looked inflated with the water. There were oil marks on his coat and thin waterlogged trousers.

"Morning",she muttered because it was too quiet.

"Afternoon".

Abigail stared at the body before rolling her eyes and tilting her head backwards for a second to see Sherlock standing behind her.

"It's just gone noon", he pointed out.

"It's good to speak to you too".

He just smirked "I'm surprised at Anderson's change in tactic. His plan isn't going too well though is it? You're not even close to him and I'm here", he drawled sounding bored, but there was a spark in his eyes as he crouched next to Abigail.

"What do you think?"

"About the body?"

"No. About me being here", he said in a sarcastic manner,"the body obviously"

Abigail flicked her eyes the length of the body before unzipping the corpse's coat pocket. She retrieved a wallet and opened it. There was something in there which completely changed the tone of the case.

"It was a suicide", she said. Sherlock looked at her before taking the wallet out of her hands. The corners of his mouth turned up in a small smile.

"I see... You may explain it to Lestrade. There's something else that you won't have seen that I'll tell him", he said, and handed the wallet back to Abigail,"here, you'll want this as proof"

"Thank you"

Another smile flashed across his lips. So quickly that she thought she'd imagined it. Sherlock straightened up from the crouch and Abigail followed. There was a moment of silence that was neither awkward nor comfortable, yet Abigail could tell that Sherlock was thinking. When she looked at him she saw pure concentration on his face.

It was at this moment that Anderson looked back and saw them together. He muttered a 'hang on' to his colleagues and stormed over to them.

"What's this?", he asked. Abigail was about to say something sarcastic but Sherlock beat her to it.

"It's a corpse on the floor surrounded by blue tape. I think it might be a crime scene"

"You know what I mean!", Anderson said in annoyance.

"Well if we knew what you meant then why did you ask 'what's this'?", Abigail said, not wanting to be left out. Before Anderson could think of a reply Lestrade and John came over to them.

"Any ideas?", Lestrade asked.

"I think Anderson should voice his ideas first", Sherlock said.

"Agreed", Abigail said.

"Fine. Murderer tied his ankles together so that he couldn't get out. Dropped him from a boat-"

"A boat?", Abigail asked, and she knew that Sherlock was thinking the same.

"Yes a boat. He's got oil marks on him"

"If that was the case then the marks would be new. And by being new they would wash away in the water", Abigail pointed out.

Anderson scoffed,"I bet you don't have anything better" She raised her eyebrows and looked at Sherlock whose eyes twinkled at the underlying challenge in the comment.

"Firstly it was a suicide. The mans name was Peter Bracknell. 31-", Abigail started.

"Suicide?", Lestrade asked. Anderson was standing defensively, with his arms crossed. Abigail opened his wallet and fished out a card that was behind his debit card. She showed it to Lestrade.

"Peter Bracknell, swim card", he read.

"He also had a pocket knife in his other pocket. Which he would of used to cut the rope. If he'd of been captured then he could of used the knife. His hands were free, it was just his ankles that were secured into place", Sherlock said,"I looked in his other pocket before you arrived Abigail"

"As for the swim card...if he could of cut the rope then he'd be able to swim. He tied his ankles together to stop himself from instinctively kicking and stopping the suicide. The wool coat also weighed him down", Abigail finished.

"Why did he do it?", asked John. Abigail shrugged,"I didn't have time to look. Thanks to you", she glared at Anderson to make it more obvious to who the comment was aimed.

"I did", Sherlock said,"he has two children and a wife who he's not paying as much attention to. Why? Because of his assistants at the oil company where he works. They were been giving him free drugs until they decided that he'd have to repay them so he was given an ultimatum. He either paid them or his family would perish. He loved his family but he didn't have the money. That's why he did it"

Abigail smiled up at Sherlock. She knew that she'd be given the answers she needed. Even if they weren't the ones she wanted.


End file.
